Sister Lizzie
by Soon to be world renown Gracie
Summary: Archer receives a transmission from Trip's supposidly dead sister, Elizabeth. She's coming aboard Enterprise.But...is Trip going crazy or is this 'Lizzie' really not his sister? And what is she up to? I LIVEEE!
1. It begins

Disclaimer: Well, of course I own Star Trek. In fact, I'm the one who came up with the idea. See, I came up with the idea, made a time travel machine, traveled back to before my mother was even born-1962 or so-told Gene Roddenberry about my wonderful idea and voiloa! (or something like that) Star Trek! So as you can see, they can actually credit the making of it to me: a 17 year old German girl who lives in Maine. Yes. I think we've all learned something here. 1. Don't mess with mother nature, mother-in-laws, or mother frickin' Ukrainians. (Sorry. Just saw the Italian Job. Great movie, I suggest you see it.) 2. Gracie needs professional help, and 3. Gracie did NOT, in fact, come up with the idea, or contributed in any way, to the making of Star Trek, and still, no matter what type of whining goes on, does NOT own Star Trek.  
  
********  
  
"A beautiful day for shoreleave, right, Trip?" Captain Archer smiled at the surroundings as he and his chief engineer walked calmly though the landscape.  
  
"Almost as pretty as Florida, Cap'n. Or at least before...you know."  
  
Captain Archer almost sighed at the words but his years in starfleet taught him to control his emotions as best as humanly possible. He nodded, "I know."  
  
"I miss 'er, Cap'n. I really do. You know the sayin's right. 'You don't know what you got 'til it's gone.'"  
  
Archer nodded again, "I understand, Trip, I really do. But try and relax and not think about it. At least not this day. It's too nice to grieve today. You have to heal sometime."  
  
Trip nodded and gave his best smile to his friend, "I'll try Cap'n."  
  
********  
  
Archer sat in his quarters, playing with Porthoz and thinking idly about Trip's family. It was a big loss, to lose such a dear family member-Archer had first hand experience. He had lost his father. He never had a sister or any siblings for that matter and he didn't know how long it would take Trip to stop thinking of it every second of everyday. Perhaps never. Archer himself still thought about his father everyday, especially when he stared out at the stars passing his ship by. But he didn't let it effect his performance. True, to Trip's credit, he hadn't let it effect his performance either, but Archer could see the signs of stress evident on the young man's face. During unguarded moments for a fleeting second, Archer might catch a glimpse of it, but nothing for long periods of time.  
  
A beep disturbed his thoughts, making him jump and knock poor Porthoz off the bed. He lovingly picked the dog up, "Oh, I'm sorry Porthoz. I'm sorry. Here. Have an extra piece of cheese-on the house." He grinned when the puppy greedily snatched the chunk out of his hands. Another beep sounded throughout his quarters, "Alright, alright. Archer here." He said as he pressed the comm button.  
  
"Hoshi here, sir. Incoming message for you. An 'Elizabeth'. It's recorded. I'm sorry, sir."  
  
"That's fine, thanks, Hoshi. Archer out." He walked over to his desk and sat. "Elizabeth? Who's Elizabeth?"  
  
His questions were answered when a young woman appeared, smiling, on the screen. She wore a Starfleet jumper-purple and gold-and had long dark hair with blonde streaks in it. Her eyes were hazel and she looked somewhat familiar.  
  
He pressed the play button and her speech immediately alerted him to who it was. Elizabeth Tucker.  
  
********  
  
The door chime rang. "Come," Archer called out, still deep in his thoughts. He shook himself out of it as his guest walked though the hatch.  
  
"You wanted to see me, Cap'n?"  
  
"Yes. I just got an unusual message. I wanted you to see it. I thought you had a right. Sit down."  
  
Trip sat in front of the computer screen in the chair Archer had gestured to and gasped, eyes wide as his sister's image appeared on the screen. "Lizzie." He whispered her name and touched the screen as though it would break if he pressed too hard.  
  
"That's not all." Trip whipped his head around to face his captain, confusion evident on his face. "Don't worry, Trip. She'll explain it all." He pressed the play button again allowing the image to begin it's explanation once more.  
  
"Cap'n Arc..r." The image inclined it's head in greeting and continued, as the picture flickered in and out as if a storm were raging as it was being recorded, southern accent becoming more evident as the words continued. "We heard here...Earth Embassy...Vulcan that Earth...attacked three...ys ago. Among the...Florida...Please...Trip that I...on Earth but...on Vulcan...training. I am...to your...for dut...I will...three days from...receive th...please...el Tri...Tuck...ut." The image went back to the original position in case anyone wished to view it again.  
  
"Cap'n...please tell me this is real."  
  
"It's real, Trip. She'll be here in three days."  
  
"She was on Vulcan? For training?"  
  
"That's what she said."  
  
"Three days..." The young man murmured to himself as he sat in amazement, occasionally glancing back at the screen where Elizabeth sat, waiting to spout her message to anyone who would hear it.  
  
********  
  
"Here she comes, Cap'n." Trip said eagerly to his friend, practically bouncing with joy at the thought of his sister being alive.  
  
Malcolm exchanged amused glances with the Captain as the airlock hissed and Trip jumped forward to open the door, tripping on the captain's foot in the process, slamming his head into the bulkhead. "Ow! Son of a-"  
  
"Such language, Commander."Captain Archer picked his friend up off the deck, "Be careful, you might dent it."  
  
"Uh-huh," Trip said unconcerned as Malcolm opened the door to find Elizabeth standing there, arms folded, faint smile on her face.  
  
"Finally. I was beginning to think no one was going to let me in." She looked amusedly at the sight of her brother in Captain Archer's arms, holding his head.  
  
Malcolm walked calmly to her and helped her with her bags. "What's with those two?" She asked the British man.  
  
"Sometimes, I don't even bother to ask." He smiled at her, "Come on, I'll show you to Trip's quarters...?"  
  
"Lieutenant Elizabeth Tucker. And you are?"  
  
"Lieutenant Malcolm Reed."  
  
"He'd kiss your hand like any other urbane Englishman, but you've already got him carrying your bags."  
  
Malcolm's ears and face turned pink and he pointed his face toward the deck as Elizabeth smiled warmly at her brother, "Trip. It feels like forever since I last saw you last."  
  
"I know the feeling," he walked over to her, smiling like a lunitic, "Lizzie, I'm so glad you're alive!" Something in her eyes flickered but Trip ignored it, figuring it was just the thought of all her childhood friends being dead. He gave her a big bear hug and her smile grew to rival Trip's own. He swung her around like her used to and she gave a squeel of delight. He put her down but she hugged him tight, refusing to let go, "God, Trip, I missed you. I'm sorry I had you worried like that."  
  
"Baby girl, it's ok now."  
  
"Come with me, Lieutenant," Malcolm interrupted, "I'll show you your brother's quarters."  
  
"It's ok, Malcolm. I'll show her the ship. Starting with the mess hall."  
  
She glanced at her brother out of the corner of her eye, suspicion evident on her face, "What's in the mess hall?"  
  
"Pecan pie." She smiled.  
  
Malcolm shrugged. "I'll just put these in Commander Tucker's quarters, if that's all right with you."  
  
"Thank you, Malcolm." She flashed her rapidly growing smile in his direction, locking gazes with him, and for a moment he was lost in the beautiful hazel eyes, but he looked away, pushing the feelings for the young woman far. She's a superior officer's sister. There's no room for that on a starship. Besides, Trip'd kill me.But how I wonder...Probably sabotage my station. Explode in my face. That would-  
  
"Malcolm? ...Malcolm? ...Mr. Reed!" Malcolm jumped and looked innocently at Archer, realizing that the two Tuckers had left already.  
  
"Um...Yes, Captain?"  
  
"Why are you just staring at the bulkheads? Are you ok?"  
  
"Huh? Yes, Captain. I'm fine. Just thinking."  
  
"Uh-huh. Right. Thinking about...?"  
  
"Um..." He thought quickly, "Weapons. Explosions." Explosions indeed...  
  
"Well, I'm going to the Bridge and I expect you there soon. Do we understand each other?"  
  
"Yes, Captain." He watched the Captain walk away and turned to go to Trip's quarters with his sister's personal effects. Let's see...what was I thinking of? Oh, yes. Exactly how Trip would kill me if he found out I fancy his sister in more than a professional fashion. Explosions probably. 'Those who live by the explosion, die by the explosion'.  
  
********  
  
AN: Hi! Just wanted to say a few things. Don't hate me for bringing Trip's sister back. It'll all make sense in the end *evil laughter*. Ahem...I know it's weird having Malcolm 'fancy' Lizzie, but go with me on this. It'll be great when I'm done. Um...I suppose that's it. Forgive me for all the weirdness in this fic. I have lots of sugar and coffee. And by sugar I mean Pixie Stix, so...yeah. Ok. Til next time, Tschuss!  
  
Oh, AN2: I heard a funny saying: Those who live by the sword die by the sword or get shot by those who don't. :) Sorry. Tschuss!...again... 


	2. Confuzzling, angry words

"I've missed you Lizzie."  
  
"You've said that Trip. So, how's life on this big ol' starship?"  
  
"Fine. But...Can I ask you somethin'?"  
  
"Sure," Lizzie looked at him expectantly as they waited in the mess hall line.  
  
"How did you..? I mean why didn't you..? Vulcan?" He stammered.  
  
She smiled up at him, "I was called to train on Vulcan for desert conditions. You know, how to fix sand clogged engines, how to survive on a desert planet in case of emergency landing, that sort of thing. I didn't tell you because I wanted to wait until I was all set up, that way...oh...I don't..."  
  
"What?" He encouraged as he slid two pieces of pecan pie onto a tray and began to lead her to a table in a far corner so they could talk privately.  
  
"I just wanted to wait so that you'd be proud of me." She blushed.  
  
"Oh, Lizzie," he slid a plate over to her while sighing and rolling his eyes, "I AM proud of you. I would be proud of you if you were...I don't know...A pole dancer on Kadoz IV."  
  
Lizzie's eyes went as wide as her smile, "Thanks I guess."  
  
"And Vulcan?"  
  
"Well," Lizzie stabbed her pecan pie with a fork, "Orders are orders!" She tasted the pie gingerly, "Mmm...I haven't had pecan pie this good since Mama threw me a goin' a way party when I joined StarFleet."   
  
She went to eat more as Trip's head snapped up at her, "Mama gave you a goin' a way party?"  
  
"Mmhmm. She gave you one, too, silly." Trip shook his head. "Yes she did! And Lisa was there along with half the town-"  
  
"Lisa? Who's Lisa?"  
  
"Lisa? Lisa Harris? Your girlfriend."  
  
"Sara. Sara was my girlfriend when I went off to StarFleet. And Mama never threw me a party. I swear."  
  
Lizzie cocked her head to the side, "No, I could swear too. Are you ok, Charles-Trip!?" She corrected herself quickly, eyes flashing.  
  
"Charles? Never in your whole life have you ever called me Charles. Even when you were just learnin' to talk you didn't call me Charles. Couldn't pronounce it. In fact... Lizzie never could."  
  
"Well I obviously can no-"  
  
"No. I mean it. In the very last transmission I got from Lizzie she said she was practicing her speech. Charles was the only thing she couldn't pronounce. Always came out Char-lers. Never did realize the L was silent. So who are you."  
  
"I'm your sister. Elizabeth Tucker."  
  
"Middle name?"  
  
"What is this? A quiz?"  
  
"Middle name?" He stressed, any trace of a smile gone now.  
  
"Anne."  
  
"Fav-"  
  
"Am I interrupting?" A British accent interrupted what Trip was about to ask.  
  
"No. We're done." Trip got up and left.  
  
Lizzie looked at her lap, sighing. "Is everything ok?"  
  
Lizzie shook her head, "I think Trip's mad at me."  
  
"On your very first day here? That's not very nice."  
  
"Oh well."   
  
Malcolm stared at the girl for a minute while she picked at her pecan pie. He hadn't heard most of the conversation with Trip, "So," he smiled, "Would you mind letting me in on a secret?" He said while leaning in confidentially.  
  
"Like what?" Her eyes sparkling with mischeif, she also leaned in.  
  
"How did Commander Tucker get his nickname? Trip? I mean, I've always wondered but I've never known."  
  
"Oh that. Well, I gave him that nickname. He always used to trip over things so I naturally called him Trip."  
  
"Ah. Makes sense. Not really a worthy secret. I have a good one, but...you have to promise not to tell."  
  
"All right," she said suspiciously.  
  
"I have this girl I really like. On board. A lieutenant, to be more specific. She's really nice, a bit mysterious, but...I don't know how to tell her. There's a rumor going around that I'm cold and heartless because I'm British and, true I've done nothing to dispel those rumors but still...the point is I don't know how to tell her I like her."  
  
"Well...in the South we just tell 'em how we feel and it's up to them to decide."  
  
"Sounds good. But what about rejection?"  
  
"Lieutenant, sometimes you just have to go for it."  
  
He smiled, "What about you? Any secrets you wish to share?"  
  
She thought for a moment. "No," she lied. "Not really."   
  
"Oh." He glanced at the cronometer on the wall, "It's almost time for our shift. Will you allow me to escourt you down to Engineering?" He offered his arm to her like any gentleman.  
  
"Of course, Mr. Reed. Thank you." She took his arm. "To tell the truth, Trip never did get around to showing me the rest of the ship."  
  
"Well, then I suppose I'll just have to pick you up at the end of this shift to show you around."  
  
She smiled up at him, "That sounds great. Thank you, Mr. Reed."  
  
"Please, call me Malcolm, Miss. Tucker."  
  
"Lizzie." He smiled down at her as they walked to Engineering.  
  
******  
  
Yay! Sorry it took me so long to update! READ AND REVIEW PEOPLE!!! Please!! I'm dying here!!! *begins to melt* *shrieks* I'M MELTING!!! MELTING!! OH WHAT A WORLD!!! sorry. -.-; untill next time, Tschuss! 


	3. confuzzling conversation with one self

Hello everybody! Ok, here's the next chapter! Ok, now, Ciara. I updated this story, now you have to update one! Ok, minna (new word! Means 'people' in Japanese! GO GRACIE! LEARN WORDS!!) *ahem* ok. Anyhoozle... Onward with the ficcy!!!  
  
Just a disclaimer reminder: I don't own StarTrek Enterprise. No. No. No. I don't own. DUH! NO OWNIE!! NOW GO 'WAY! LEAVE ME 'LONE! *sniff* meanies...  
  
Oh, by the way, totally ignoring that episode where Malcolm finds out the orgin of Trip's nickname. So it shall all make sense in the end. You guys just have to wait patiently!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!  
  
*******  
  
Trip fumed all the way down to engineering. What was going on? His sister- wait. Was that his sister? She certainly looked like Lizzie. Yet... something was wrong. Lisa never was his girlfriend. Sara. Sara was. Lisa was just a good friend. A very good friend. With privileges. He smiled in spite of himself. That was a great night. The night he went away. That was the night Sara broke up with him. And Lisa and him came to know each other a little bit more.  
  
That last thought made him pause.That would have made Lisa his girlfriend the night he left for StarFleet. Was Lizzie correct in her assessment? But. Still. The party. He never did have a going-away party. Mama had baked him a cake. And his family was there. But party? With half the town? Of course...back home in Florida...his whole family plus Lisa WAS half the town. He sighed in frustration. Everything she said could have been intrepreted two ways. Either she didn't know what she was talking about or he was just paranoid and looking for a reason to claim she wasn't his sister.  
  
He stopped in his tracks and slammed his head against the wall in annoyance. 'Good Lord I need help.' But... something else nagged at the back of his mind. 'Charles'?  
  
"Trip?" A soft voice asked behind him.  
  
He whirled making the girl jump in surprise. "Wha-? Oh. Lizzie." She stared at him with wide eyes filled with fear. "I'm sorry Lizzie. That I jumped on you before. I just-" A shift in movement beside his sister made him stop and look. "Malcolm?"  
  
"Sorry, Commander. I was just showing Lizzie the rest of the ship and we saw you here. Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes. Just on my way to Engineering. Just...thinking." He pointedly looked at Lizzie who pointedly looked at the deck.  
  
"Yes well," Malcolm looked uncomfortable and Trip pounced on it.  
  
"You ok, there Malcolm? You look a bit...I dunno...squeamish?"  
  
"Squeamish?" He sounded offended and Lizzie grinned slightly, "A proper English officer is NEVER squeamish." Trip grinned stupidly making Lizzie's smile grow to normal.  
  
********  
  
Yay! Short, I know. But thoughts aren't exactly free flowing at the moment. So...how are my little minions today? Hmm? READ AND REVIEW! I LIVE FOR REVIEWS!!!  
  
*Ciara appears* WHAT ARE YOU DOING TALKING TO THESE PEOPLE??? Don't you have other fics to update!?  
  
*imitates 'Jacques' from 'Finding Nemo'* Oui. I am ashamed. 


	4. midnight conversations with a murderer

Big news!!! I'M NOT DEAD! crowd murmurs angrily and glares ...ok, so sorry...I know I haven't updated this in ....forever......but at least I'm updating now.....smiles sheepishly as readers prepare to beat her with noodles  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise, I only own my sorry little plot that is never updated!  
  
Oh yeah, to whoever figured out that Lizzie said the wrong nickname origin to Malcolm waaaay back in chapter 2, good job. I know I said something about me ignoring that episode last chapter, however, what I meant was that the only thing that changed was of Malcolm finding out...the nickname thingy didn't. Make sense? So, kudos to you, my good friend!  
  
888888888  
  
"But you don't understand-"  
  
"I understand perfectly, Xaou. You have your orders, you must obey them-no matter how much you don't want to."  
  
"But these people-"  
  
"They aren't your friends. They don't care for you. How long have you been there, how long have you been ignoring the signs? These people deserve to be punished. You must obey your orders."  
  
"They don't deserve to be punished!"  
  
"Xaou! Carry out your orders or you will be replaced! And trust me, Xaou, your replacement won't be so kind with these criminals-and if you want to keep your life, you won't be, also. Oh, Xaou, where is the cold hearted assassin I used to know?"  
  
"That 'cold hearted assassin' found feelings."  
  
"That's bad in a cold hearted assassin, Xaou. Lose the feelings and find your weapon. These criminals had better be taken care of in two katzxons time, or those feelings won't be the only thing you find lodged in your heart."  
  
888888888  
  
Lizzie grinned and rushed down the cooridor. 'I am going to be sooo late!!!' she thought as she sprinted, attempting to avoid various crewmen. She squealed as she almost got smushed between the lift's doors. Heaving a sigh of relief she leaned back against the control panel and groaned as the lift grew quiet and dark, stopping it's ascent to the bridge. "Good going, blockhead."  
  
Lift 9, please respond.  
  
Trip. "This is lift 9. Some idiot leaned against the emergency stop button. Care to get her out of a sticky situation?"  
  
There was uproarous laughter from her brother and a click signaling that he had either fallen to the floor with laughter and had been unable to hold down the comm button any longer, or that he had come to get her out. Either way, she was going to kill him.  
  
"So, looks like we have some time to kill."  
  
Lizzie jumped at the voice and reached for her phaser.  
  
8888888888  
  
Ok, I don't care if I get flames, just send me something to let me know I still have readers out there and they haven't all turned into skeletons in front of the computer screens waiting for me to update! Ok...maybe that was a little too selfinvolved. After all, I'm sure nobody actually waits for me to update it's more of a general, 'Hey, look. Haven't I read this first chapter before? Guess she updated' type of thing.  
  
So please press the purple button at the bottom of your screen and give me reviews, criticism, flames, ideas, suggestions, guesses, information, yellings at, etc. I'll even take just a 'hey. still here. update or i kill you' type thing. Minimum effort, so much goodness! runs and hides as various readers run after her with torches, pitchforks, swords, machetes, phasers, guns, and starships Hey! Where'd you get a starship!? I want one!!! 


	5. HELLO? LOLolololo ::sigh:: stupid echo

::Imitates voices on a CB Radio:: ::Ttsch:: Breaker, breaker 1-9, we gotta convoy! WOOOEEE! ::Cough:: Anyway... Me no owny. You no suey. Read me? Good. 

Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers! I love you all! ::Attacks reviewers:: ::Hugs them to death::...oh no!...I HAVE NO REVIEWERS!!! ::Sobs:: Onward we shall go regardless. Gracie out. ::Ttsch::

::In cheesy announcer voice:: Previously, on Sister Lizzie...

"So, looks like we have some time to kill."

Lizzie jumped at the voice and reached for her phaser...

88888888

She blushed as she realized that she wasn't wearing one and that she recognized the voice that had

spoken. It belonged to a cute English officer. "Malcolm!" Thank God above he couldn't see her reach

toward her hip...or see her increasingly rose face.

He chuckled, making her blush even more in the darkness, "Quite right. Nice going with the comm panel, by the way. Smooth."

"Yeah, lately I seem to be nothing but smooth."

He laughed and she heard him slide down the bulkhead to sit on the deck. "Coffee?" he asked,

grabbing her hand and shoving warm mug into it. She took it gratefully and cautiously sipped the hot,

black liquid.

She inhaled sharply as the bitter heat hit her tongue, then laughed at herself. She kneeled next to

Malcolm and handed him his coffee, "Thanks. I think I needed that to wake up." They sat in

comfortable silence for a few minutes before she ventured to say anything, "Mal-"

"Shh! Did you hear that?" He silenced her quickly, one hand on her forearm to stop her from

speaking.

She looked up although she couldn't see anything through the darkness. She heard it then. A loud

bang and random crashing sounds. "What the heck is that?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know." He sighed deeply. "Do you have your phaser on you?"

She almost laughed, but hurriedly remembered herself, "No. I didn't think I would need it today."

"Well, good thing I thought ahead of time." He shuffled around noisily, clanging something obviously heavy in the process. Within a few moments, Lizzie felt the cool, sleek handle of a phaser shoved into her palm. She clenched it automatically, then cringed when it went off. For a heart stopping moment, the phase-charge ricocheted off the metal bulkheads loudly, illuminating the tiny lift. Lizzie had enough time to register Malcolm's look of pure shock in the red luminescence of the deadly charge before it ended. She heard a thump and a slight groan.

'Oh Good Lord above...I just shot the cutest guy on the ship...'

88888888

"Are you sure he's going to be ok?" Lizzie asked anxiously.

"Yes, Lieutenant, Mr. Reed only suffered a mild stun. He'll be fine, he just needs to rest. I think it best he stay here over night so that I can observe the effects of one of these phase-pistols on the human anatomy. Quite interesting, you know," Dr. Phlox turned away, still prattling on about something or other-Lizzie was too wracked with guilt about shooting her crush to really pay attention to the doctor's scientific mumbling.

The odd noise ended up to just be Trip fixing a few wires for the lift, harnessed above the tiny machine in the lift shaft. He had laughed about the predicament that Lizzie had gotten herself into for a good five minutes, then helped her to move Malcolm to sick-bay–still laughing.

Lizzie left sick-bay, still feeling guilty, and went to her brother's quarters where she was staying for the time being. She entered the room and, sighing, leaned against the bulkhead, her smile long since faded.

Everything suddenly went dark.

88888888

Ok. Now this is where I decided I was going to put replies to all my reviews for the previous chapter. I was quite proud of myself for deciding to take on that challenge...But, oh, that's right...I GOT NO REVIEWS!!! ::Sob:: No one read my ficcy! No one reviewed my ficcy! I am so sad!!! ::sobs and runs off:: ::From afar:: Please, if you read this, at least review it! Just drop me a line to say, "don't stop reviewing or I'll kill you." or "hey" YES, I'LL EVEN ACCEPT RANDOM COMBINATIONS OF LETTERS AND NUMBERS IF THAT'S ALL YOU'LL GIVE ME!!! JUST LET ME KNOW THERE'S SOMEONE STILL ALIVE OUT THERE! ::voice echoes eerily:: ....creepy....


	6. Xaou Revealed

:Nervously: Hi guys. I know, I haven't updated in :checks update date:Squeeee: a year... Well, I've decided that stops now. I'm kinda blowing off French homework for this so... Yeah. Here you go! I hope you like it! Thanks to all my reviewers!

* * *

The darkness was all encompassing as Lizzie felt along the bulkhead for the lights. She found the panel and pressed the light switch a few times futilely before going back to the bulkhead to leave. It didn't open. She sighed. Today was just not her day. She'd been on the ship for a few weeks now and everywhere she went she seemed to cause trouble. Captain Archer said she was just like her brother.

She thought fleetingly about calling Trip to get her out of this situation but then paused. Maybe he should just assign an engineer to be with her at all times, just in case. She wondered vaguely if it were possible to just melt into the floor.

* * *

All the lights on the bridge went out for a moment, causing all the bridge occupants to glance stupidly at the ceiling for a moment, before shaky emergency lighting kicked in. "Sir," Travis called from the helm, "The helm is sluggish for some reason."

"We're receiving a transmission, sir," Hoshi told him, "Wait. No, not a transmission. It's," she frowned at her blinking console, "I don't know what's going on."

Just then, a proximity alarm went off. "Travis?" Captain Archer asked wearily.

"There's nothing out there, sir. I think something's just wrong with our equipment."

* * *

Lizzie frowned as she fumbled in Trip's drawer for a flashlight. She clicked it on, smiling at her success, and made her way back to the panel beside the door past old pictures of her and Trip. Her eyes grew sad as they passed over them, but she quickly turned her attention back to the panel. Ah. Panels. Her old nemeses. But she put on a brave face. After all, she was an engineer! She could fix it if Trip could. She pried open the panel housing and stared at the wires and hardware she found there. With a flash of brilliance she rewired the door and, with a smirk of satisfaction, watched as the door slid open in the dim light of the flashlight. She made her way out of Trip's quarters and ventured out into the dark corridor.

* * *

'Now is my chance,' Xaou thought, 'No lights, armory officer in the sickbay, false alarms. I can finish the job and be gone within the day.' She stopped her journey down the corridor for a moment, 'But...these people they don't deserve it. They've been nothing but kind.' She paused at that. 'They deserve my hatred,' she reminded herself. Her employers had told her how her people had died. These humans, the ones from Earth, they had murdered her people, destroyed her planet, innocent people, babies, slaughtered under the watchful eye of the monsters on this ship. The ship in which she now treaded lightly, making hardly a sound as her black boots landed on the metal deck. 'They deserve my hatred.'

She heard a footstep behind her, a stray beam of light made its way past her and she spun quickly to see who it was, the light temporarily blinding the officer.

She gasped when she saw who it was. The one person she didn't want to see, the one person who caused her so much inner conflict, "You!"

The officer's face screwed up in confusion and hurt as he recognized the familiar shape in her hand as a phase pistol, recognized the angry red light on top as the 'kill' setting. In the slow Southern drawl that made Xaou's heart wrench he whispered, "Lizzie?"

* * *

Ha HA! How's THAT for a twist:glances around: Was it a twist? Were you expecting that? Anyone? 


End file.
